A Rage Against the Mountain
by Arabella Thorne
Summary: Chapter Two: Growing old among the elves...a look from Gilraen's POV
1. Default Chapter

A Rage Against the Mountain

Well, he swears this will help me. Help me deal with the pain of getting old while surrounded by those for whom age is merely something that applies to wine!

That writing in a journal will help to clear my thoughts and see what is fancy and what is real.

It is all real my Lord Elrond! Every last painful thought and memory!! How would you know...never sick, never injured, never dying, elf lord!

He is so wrapped up in all things Elvish, cool and remote, his dealings with others are always the height of politeness and reserve.

As he is with me! Me the mother of the next Dunadan! Possibly the next King of Gondor! My Aragorn! My-my little boy, now almost a man!

__

HIS Estel.

Estel, an elvish name meaning hope. Whose hope? His or mine? The world of men or the world of elves? Which will benefit the most from his presence?

How would I know, I see my boy so little these days. He is always practicing archery and swords and studying with the Master of this House. He has even tried his herb lore on me. The vile nasty concoctions he says will help my mood. As does his teacher.

He calls this elven Lord..... _Father_!! Father! When he has, had a perfectly fine and wonderful human father, Arathorn.

Oh my beloved...my lost heart! Even after these many, many years I miss him so.....

No one touches me in love. No one cares how lonely and still my days are here, living on the kindness of the Eldar.

And now, my little one wanders away, deeper into the world of the elves, ever forgetting he is human and has me.

A human mother.

One who is aging, whose hair is streaked with gray, whose face sags and whose eyes are..._old_!

I know I am a curiosity here among the ageless glory of the Eldar. Me and my moodiness, my pain, my restlessness.

I cannot find peace here! I wander the halls, and the gardens at all hours, I try my hand at my embroidery but knot up the threads, I cannot sleep so many of my nights...I wander.

My thoughts full of unsettled images. My youth, my husband, my son...our lives.

And here I am, surrounded by great beauty....... and I will admit there is kindness, and care....but so often it feels as if it is the impersonal kindness one shows to a guest that has over-stayed their welcome.

I am petted and fed and kept cleaned...tended to when I am sick.....and left alone!!

Alone is this big House full of elves, all busy with their concerns and the glory of life around them and I...I have trouble getting up in the morning sometimes.

And I cannot remember the last time I sang.

I remember when we first got here, surrounded by the last of the troop that had fended off the orcs that had killed my husband.

We had ridden for days and were numb with horror and the early spring cold. Both Aragorn and I were sick with the loss of Arathorn and sick with colds and a fever. We had had little time to eat or rest. The rest of the Dunedain had insisted on this unrelenting sprint to the House of Elrond as he had ever offered to succor and aid to those of my husband's line.

Elves! I had never had any dealings with elves. And I was afraid when we got here.

Afraid of their beauty and their quiet and their smooth movements.

It was late evening and the courtyard into which we had rushed was full of milling horses and elves trying to bring calm and order to everything,

I remember very clearly, sitting on my exhausted horse, afraid to move. Afraid I would fall and drop my baby who was fretting with a fever, as we both were.

Suddenly silence reigned, and the crowded parted. By the light of torches I saw the Master of this House make his way to our sides.

I knew it was he, because when he reached my stirrup he said calmly, "Welcome to Rivendell Gilraen. I am Elrond."

I nodded trying to pull my dignity from out under my tired heart. "I thank you." I said, weaving slightly in the saddle, "for your aid. I---" And then little Aragorn wailed and Lord Elrond gently took my child from me. And I let him. He looked down at Aragorn and lay a hand on his forehead.

"He is very ill Gilraen."

I practically fell off my mare then and made to take my child back. "We are both ill! We have had no time to eat or deal with tragedy my lord!" I stood there and then suddenly felt as if the ground was moving and I remember little else.

I awoke, bathed, in a clean chemise and lying in a comfortable bed. Aragorn lay next to me, his breathing dry and raspy from his cold.

I tried to sit up, but was too tired. The room was lit by one big fat candle at my bedside. I saw a goblet reflecting the light and I tried to reach it, but I was too tired and I could not judge the distance correctly.

And a hand came out of the darkness and picked up the goblet.

Terrified, I struggled to sit up and into the light of the candle stepped the Master of the House, Lord Elrond.

"Let me help you." He said quietly. My head was whirling too much for me to stop him and he helped to sit up and drink the cordial.

Finished, he lay me back and smiled at me, his expression warm.

"And my-my son?"

"He will be fine in a few days as will you. Sleep now: Your dreams will be restful." Blinking at him confused, he lay a hand across my eyes before I could ask what he meant and I slept.

The next few days were quiet and Aragorn thrived in the peace and warmth, and the regular meals and nap times. I improved steadily too.

I did not know what to say to Lord Elrond. He was always nice and so very silent...no loud gestures or laughs. His movements were gentle and efficient.

Most of the time, Aragorn and I were left alone in our room, but that was all right as both of us needed the rest and sleep.

But by the third day of course, Aragorn had had enough and wanted to explore. I still had a bit of a headache, and he still had a bit of a cough, but I dutifully followed him about the room to make sure he did not hurt himself.

And thus it began.

My son led here in Rivendell, and I followed, a pale unwanted shadow. And though my baby loved me and hugged me at night, during the daylight hours his eyes were only on the elves and Lord Elrond. I was there only to rein him in if he became too boisterous.

My life had changed. No longer was I the center of my husband and my child's loves. I was now an outsider.

And on my own.


	2. Entry two

And I have been on my own for sometime now, surrounded by the daily lives of all these elves whom I do not touch, save in the most superficial way.

I have my own mare, Bimal, whom I love very much. She gives me a chance to ride off and be on my own. And on very rare occasions, Aragorn will even join me and that is wonderful. We have even gone on a picnic or two.

At the moment he is off on a hunt with Lord Elrond's twin sons who despite their great age difference have bonded with my son and are his closest companions here in Rivendell.

There is no one here his age of course. No elvish children. And from what I can gather, it has been many, many years since there were any. Lord Elrond's daughter Arwen is the last born here, I believe.

I am glad Aragorn has someone to talk to. He tells me how much he enjoys their company. And of course, their presence just makes him feel even more a son of Elrond.

A son of Elrond! I asked if he liked being the _human_ son of an _elvish _lord...and he looked at me as if I had said something unfathomable and answered brightly, "But of course!"

I just shook my head. In his heart, I know he is human...but in word and action as elvish as any one here.

I cannot begrudge Aragorn his friendship with Elladan and Elrohir.

I just wish I had someone to talk to as easily.

Lord Elrond has left me the few journals kept by other mothers of Dunadan that he has sheltered here. They have been helpful, to a degree. But still, there is no one to talk to. Their voices echo my complaints and I feel if we are sisters in isolation, if nothing else.

Ah well.......

What did I do today?

I got out of bed and found breakfast on my table near the windows.

I drank the tea and nibbled on the roll with honey and butter. But I didn't want the eggs.

I sat before the fire when I was finished. It is the end of winter and my knees ache. And I tire of telling Lord Elrond of any of my problems. He must just think I am pathetic.

I tried to work on my embroidery, but I could not concentrate.

So, I got up with a groan and put on my thick boots and a cape and wandered out of my rooms.

I went outside and got some polite "hellos" and "How are you this mornings?" from passing elves and I replied in careful Sindarin. I learned that language straight away after arriving here. I didn't want anything said in my presence that I could not understand!

Once outside, I pulled the soft wool around my throat and went across the bridge and walked down the road.

I met less and less elves and so I relaxed some. Not that elves make me nervous, it was just today, I wanted to be alone and away from their unearthly beauty.

I smiled to myself, remembering my first feelings about the elves, especially the males.

Soon after we had gotten here, I will admit, I became quite taken with all the beautiful males here. And Lord Elrond, being the elf I saw the most, well I... well I became quite enamored of him.

I know! How very, very silly of me! A grown woman, a widow with a young babe! And my husband not dead three months, and I was already a mooncalf about someone else!

And an _elf_, and not just any elf, but the Lord of Imladris.

I would follow him around during the day as much as I was able. He only smiled at me when I would come into a room, usually letting Aragorn run ahead of me as if I was chasing him and just happened to go into the same room where Lord Elrond was working or reading or mixing herbs.

In the evenings, I always wanted to sit next to him at dinner, and usually, if I was early enough, I could, and if his sons weren't there, of course.

Did I say anything witty or engage him in deep conversation?

Of course not, I was too shy and embarrassed. And my conversation consisted mostly of, "May I have the salt bowl please? Or "May I have another piece of fruit?" something of that nature.

He always tried to talk to me of my day, but because I usually spent as much of it around him as possible, well, there wasn't much to say.

This is quite embarrassing to look back on. What a youngster I was! He must have thought I was just a silly empty-headed..._edain _girl.

This went on for a month or two....and quite reached a peak one night, when Estel had gotten sick with a ragged winter cough and Lord Elrond and I were staying up with him. Lord Elrond to make sure he didn't choke...and I because he is my sweetheart and I was terrified by the horrible sound of his congestion.

Well, it took Aragorn a couple of nights until Lord Elrond was convinced he was out of danger.

And I of course, was not getting in any sleep. Lord Elrond didn't seem to require much.

Well, the third night, I guess I was just a little strained with lack of sleep. And I kept fighting to keep awake in my chair.

It was very late, the moon was beginning to set and it's soft light filled the room, making it look very ethereal and beautiful.

The elf lord, seeing my distress, picked me up and carried me over to my bed.

What did I do? 

I put my arms around him and lay my head on his chest with a sigh. How embarrassing.

As he arranged me on my bed, I did not want to let go, and this actually caught him off guard, and he half fell on me. I pulled him closer and hid my face against his soft hair.

He lay a moment next to me, no doubt deciding just what was going on, and then, gently untangled my arms from around him and settled me under a quilt.

He merely said softly, "I am sorry Gilraen. I know this life is hard on your spirit."

And he lay a hand on my brow and I slept.

I slept almost a whole day. And when I awoke, Aragorn was laying next to me asleep, his breathing much more easy.

Lord Elrond never said anything about my silliness that night, and I never brought it up. I felt rather nervous around him during the next few days, but soon that passed, too.

And now, now I guess we are friends. We have my son's welfare to bind us in purpose. All right...his son too. Though even now, after all these years, it pains me to say that.

I wonder what Arathorn would think of all this?

I suspect, actually, he would approve. Look how healthy his son is! And look at the education he is getting! And he is happy and thriving.

And I, well, I am surviving.

And if I must survive, this is not a bad place to do it.

And to be honest, it is certainly a much nicer (and warmer) home than Arathorn and I had in the Wild outside of Bree! 

And I will admit, looking back, I certainly would have been grateful for Lord Elrond's help in birthing my boy, because it was a rainy night and the midwife had gone out on another call, to little Malley Tobold as I recall, who was also expecting her first child.

Hm. I wonder what ever happened to her?

So it was just I and Arathorn. And dear soul, he was as ignorant of the process as I was. And it was a long, hard delivery. Luckily, the midwife did show up just at the end and so was able to get me and Aragorn settled properly.

But the love in our little house that night was as bright as the sun...and I miss that so much!

I would trade this warm home for a cave with my beloved Arathorn.....

Oh, this is enough for one day. I am getting a headache and I want to lie down. And my knees still hurt.

It is terrible getting old!!


End file.
